


Broken Nose

by JMount74



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Broken Bones, Gen, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74
Summary: John and Gordon get into a fight, which doesn't end well for Scott.
Kudos: 29





	Broken Nose

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Tracy's, Pre-IR. Can be any universe but TOS inspired.  
> My first story.  
> I do not own, nor make any money from, these characters.

John stood there. Frozen. Trying really hard not to allow the tears to fall. The sounds of his brothers already up and active faded into the background.

Six months.

That is how long and how hard John had worked on his model of the solar system. Six months. He’d had Scott help with measurements of the planets to ensure they were all accurate to scale. Virgil had helped with mixing paints. Even his dad had managed to spare half an hour to check it over; and help with the clockwork to make it spin.

In less than 30 seconds it was all gone.

Never mind that the science fair was on today and his model was supposed to be on display.

‘This is why I have my own room and wanted a lock on my door,’ John thought bitterly as he looked down at the soggy, misshapen orrery. He bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. One bucket of water balanced on the door had destroyed everything. How his brother had even managed to get it up there was scientifically astonishing.

Suddenly John was no longer upset. He was angry, no – he was livid. His fish of a brother was going to pay. Casting the ruin aside, he rushed down the stairs to the kitchen, where he could hear Scott helping 6-year-old Alan with breakfast. If Alan was downstairs, then Gordon couldn’t be far behind. His thundering footsteps were enough to even wake Virgil.

Gordon was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Scott trying to cajole Alan into eating cereal rather than pancakes. They were running late as usual, and there was some big thing John needed to do today that meant they all had changes to their schedules. It was so unfair as it meant that he couldn’t go swimming until the afternoon. He smirked to himself. ‘I wonder if John’s up yet and found my present?’ he thought to himself.

15-year-old Scott was tired. His dad had left early yesterday due to an emergency and left Scott in charge until Grandma came this afternoon. He loved his four brothers more than anything; but running around after them yesterday had worn him out, and then he hadn’t slept well. Trying to get Alan to agree to cereal rather than spend time he didn’t have making the pancakes his baby brother asked for was taking his limited patience to the max. ‘Please don’t let anything else go wrong,’ he thought, ‘I don’t think I can handle much more.’ A yelp and a crash showed that prayer was going to be unanswered.

John, seeing Gordon in the doorway, had literally jumped on him. At 13 years of age compared to Gordon’s 9, John had the advantages of height and surprise. But Gordon was stronger than John, years of swimming giving him both strength and flexibility. So, it was with some surprise John suddenly found himself on his back, Gordon astride his hips. But John had fury, on his side. In seconds the pair were rolling around trading fists. Gordon didn’t have the time to wonder how John knew how to fight. As far has he could remember, he had never seen John even playfight, yet he was definitely scrapping for real.

Scott had shot across the kitchen after hesitating a second. John? Virgil – now Virgil he could understand wanting to beat up Gordon, since he was, apart from Scott, the most likely to be targeted by one of his younger brother’s pranks, but John? 

As Scott (followed closely by Alan) was entering the hallway, Virgil was coming down the stairs, rubbing the sleep – and the disbelief – from his eyes. He glanced at Scott, who replied by shrugging one shoulder. For a couple of minutes they watched the two brothers fighting. Only Scott had ever seen John lose his temper this badly before, for the others this was an occurrence that had not been seen. However, it seemed that John was not calming down and Gordon was actually in danger of being hurt, so Scott and Virgil waded in.

Scott pulled a wriggling, wet John off Gordon, while Virgil helped up, and then held back, a furious Gordon. John was still screaming incoherently at Gordon and trying desperately to get to him while Scott was trying hard to restrain him. Suddenly, in the middle of wriggling, John had thrown his head back and was now free. Seconds later Virgil had let go of Gordon and the pair were at each other again.

It was Virgil’s voice that stopped them, or rather, it was what Virgil said.

‘Scott! You’re bleeding’

As suddenly as it had started, the fight was over, both brothers now stopping and turning to look at Scott.

Scott had been trying to hook one of John’s arms when his immediately younger brother had thrown his head back, connecting with Scott’s face. The sudden blossom of pain caused Scott to let go, and he fell back to sit on the floor. Scott blinked furiously as his eyes watered – he was not crying, damn it – and tried to work out what had happened. He was still trying to work it out as Virgil cried out that he was bleeding.

Touching his nose gingerly, he now could feel the pain. And the blood, which was running over his mouth and chin and dripping onto his favourite shirt. Scott still couldn’t quite work out what was happening.

Seeing Scott on the floor caused each brother to react differently. Alan, despite his best efforts, burst into tears. But then, he was only six, and he hero-worshipped his big brother. Gordon and John both looked shocked. They stopped fighting and stood there, uncertain as to what would be the best thing to do.

Virgil – Virgil took charge. Even at 11 years old, Virgil knew what to do. Ordering John to grab a cloth and a basin of water, he knelt in front of Scott. Asking Gordon to look after Alan, he gently shook Scott by the shoulder. ‘Scott, Scott. Are you alright?’ Scott looked bemusedly up at him. Virgil winced. He could see the black bags under Scott’s eyes from lack of sleep, but he could see bruising and swelling already starting to show. 

When John put the basin and cloth down beside him and knelt down, Virgil grabbed the cloth and started dabbing at the blood. Scott hissed and tried to move his head out of the way, attempting to snatch the cloth. Rolling his eyes, Virgil gave Scott the cloth and assisted him to stand. Scott patted him on the shoulder and made his way to the downstairs bathroom. As he left, Virgil turned to John, who was still kneeling on the floor next to the discarded basin of water. John looked pale, well – paler than normal – and was staring after Scott.

‘John, you alright there?’ Virgil asked. John simply stared at the now closed bathroom door. ‘Did…did I do that? He whispered. Virgil sat down next to him and placed a hand on John’s arm. ‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Yes, you did. I think you broke his nose.’ John swallowed. ‘I didn’t even feel it.’ Scott would kill him. Scratch that, Dad would kill him. And as for Grandma…

Gordon came up and sat next to Virgil, as far from John as he could. Alan sat next to John. ‘Dude,’ Gordon breathed, ‘that was awesome; you totally broke Scotty’s nose, John!’ Virgil clipped him around the head as he had seen both his dad and Scott do. ‘Idiot,’ he said. ‘Don’t you realise what a problem this is?’ Suddenly his immediate brothers’ attention was fixed firmly on him, both had identical looks on their faces – eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation. Virgil sighed. ‘Who’s going to take Scott to the hospital? Grandma isn’t due for another five hours.’ Both brothers now had the grace to look guilty. 

Half an hour later, Scott was still in the bathroom and the boys were still on the floor in the hall, when a key sounded in the lock. Hoping it was his Grandmother, Gordon jumped up to help. The four got a surprise though – it was their father. Jeff had managed to sort out the issue much earlier than he had expected and had rushed home. He had so wanted to see John present his orrery and had been delighted that the fix had been much easier than it had sounded over the phone. He stopped short on seeing his youngest four boys in the hallway, they should have left already if they were to set up on time. And where was Scott?

‘Boys, what’s going on?’ he asked. Gordon looked guilty – but then he usually was so this was not a new look. John, strangely, also looked guilty. Alan looked like he had been crying. Virgil was looking between the bathroom door and himself, so Jeff assumed Scott was in there. No-one answered. This was not unusual, as they often protected each other.

Putting his case down, he motioned for the boys to get up. ‘John, I want you to make everyone a cup of cocoa. Virgil, have you all eaten?’ Virgil shook his head. ‘Right, once everyone has had some cereal and a hot drink, we will discuss what is going on. Go on, in the kitchen with you all.’ Once his boys had disappeared Jeff knocked on the bathroom door.

‘Go away,’ came a nasal reply. Frowning again at the unusual sound in Scott’s voice, Jeff made himself known. ‘Son, open the door for me.’ Jeff was not prepared for the sight.  
Scott stood before him in an absolute mess. His shirt was ruined by not only the blood down it but also by the attempts to clean it. There were dried tracks of blood down Scott’s chin and neck, and he had obviously been crying although he had attempted to hide that. Scott’s usually immaculate hair was all over the place. But his face – his face was a beautiful mess and his nose was…was definitely broken, with his top lip badly split and…was that a missing tooth? There was an audible difference to his breathing and Jeff was pretty sure his eldest’s nose wasn’t that shape last time he looked.

Jeff took a deep breath. Broken bones in a family of five boisterous and accident-prone boys were not unusual, but this was the first time one had broken their nose. His eldest looked awful, and he could only begin to imagine the pain it was causing. While he was itching to find out who, practicalities took over. Scott needed the hospital. ‘How long?’ was the only question he asked. Glancing at the clock behind his dad Scott replied, ‘about half an hour.’

Putting his arm around his eldest’s shoulders, he manoeuvred Scott to sit in the lounge. Leaving him there, Jeff entered the kitchen, the weirdly quiet kitchen. There was no doubt in Jeff’s mind that one of the boys was responsible (his money was on Gordon), but that could wait. They sat there sipping the cocoa John had made, and Jeff was pleased to note two cups waiting, although he knew Scott wouldn’t drink his. Seeing the dishes in the sink, he handed out tasks.

‘Boys, I’m sure you’ve realised we will have to take your brother to the hospital.’ Four heads nodded. ‘John, can you grab some clean clothes for Scott please. Virgil, can you wash up and Gordon, you dry up please so there are no dishes for your Grandmother. And Alan, I want you to go and sit with Scott, ok?’ Four heads nodded and they all dispersed to do their allotted tasks. Jeff pulled out his phone and called his mom, explaining where they would be if she arrived before they returned. He stood in the doorway and watched Alan sitting on Scott’s lap, his head resting on Scott’s chest with Scott holding him in a loose hug.

The trip to the hospital was quiet, Scott sitting in the front and no one talking. Jeff was furiously trying to work out who, but no-one was giving anything away. They were seen almost immediately (thank goodness for private healthcare and calling ahead), and the doctor had x-rayed Scott within 30 minutes of arriving. Scott was now lying upright on the bed, with Alan in front asleep on him, Virgil sitting on his left and John on his right, and Gordon squeezed between Virgil and the bed. Jeff sat at the foot of the bed. 

The doctor entered, smiling at the sight of Alan asleep on his big brother. Stopping next to Jeff, she cleared her throat and addressed Scott: ‘Yes, you have a lovely fracture that will need some manipulation to realign, Scott. We will need to let the swelling go down for a couple of days before doing this, so your dad will need to make an appointment before you leave. You are going to be very colourful for probably 7-10 days, your nose will heal in about three-four weeks, and you will have to keep away from contact and ball-based sports for around 3 months, possibly longer depending how it heals. Apart from that, you are free to go as soon as your Dad has signed the paperwork.’ 

There was a noticeable drop in room temperature at this statement. For his eldest, it was the baseball season, and Scott was a star hitter. Scott closed his eyes in resignation. There wasn’t a lot else he could do now. Handing Scott the bag with his clean clothes in, Jeff gave Alan to Virgil, and headed off to make the appointment and complete the paperwork. 

Arriving home just after lunchtime, Jeff sent Scott go back to bed; he could see how tired his son was and the painkillers were probably encouraging that. Jeff sent the other four to sit down in lounge while he checked that Scott would be ok. Before Jeff could say anything, his mom appeared from the kitchen. It was obvious from the smells that she had been cooking lunch for them. 

The remaining four boys sat in order of age on the large sofa. A small part of Jeff was always secretly amused at how they naturally did this, although if Scott had been here Alan would probably be on his lap rather than on the seat. His youngest had not quite grown out of worshipping his eldest. Jeff and their Grandma stood before them, neither saying a word, both knew that one of the boys would not be able to keep the silence going.

It was, predictably, Gordon who broke the quiet. He shifted uncomfortably until he stood up. Staring at his feet, Gordon simply said, ‘S’my fault.’ Jeff raised an eyebrow. There was obviously more involved in this. Gordon swallowed and continued, ‘I pranked John.’

Jeff and Ruth turned to John, whose face was now flame-red. Standing up next to Gordon, he joined in staring at the floor. ‘It wasn’t Gordon’s fault, Dad. It was mine.’ John simply stated, with no elaboration. This was unusual. In all of John’s 13 years, Jeff had only seen his son lose his temper enough to fight once. And he had not directed that at his brothers. Jeff held out for more information.

Alan then stood up. Ok, Jeff thought, judging from the reactions of the other three boys, this was unexpected. ‘I was naughty Daddy, I wouldn’t let Scott give me cereal,’ he pronounced, and promptly burst into quiet tears. Ruth went over and picked Alan up, hugging and trying to comfort him. Jeff began to wonder what other revelations were about to be made.

And Virgil did not disappoint. ‘It’s my fault too, Dad,’ he said. ‘I kept Scott up half the night because I was painting and wouldn’t go to bed until I was finished, despite Scott telling me several times.’

By now their father was struggling, unsuccessfully, to keep a straight face, although none of his boys noticed as they were finding the floor so interesting to look at. With a great amount of effort Jeff got himself under control.

‘So, let me see if I have this right. Virgil kept Scott up half the night, and that’s why Scott is tired. Alan then didn’t want the breakfast Scott wanted to give him. Gordon pranked John and, I assume, John retaliated.’ All four heads nodded. ‘Hmm. So, I guess then, John and Gordon were fighting, and Scott tried to break it up.’ Again, four heads bobbed up and down. ‘Therefore, either John or Gordon were responsible for Scott’s injury.’ Nodding continued. It was like getting blood from a stone.

At this point Ruth handed Alan to Virgil and left the room, returning with John’s ruined orrery. It answered every question. Jeff sighed deeply. He knew how much this had meant to John, and he completely understood why he had reacted so badly. Ruth took Alan and Virgil into the kitchen so Jeff could talk to the other two. He knew he couldn’t leave this. How often had he warned Gordon to be careful not to hurt his brothers with his pranks? How often had he warned all of them of the potential consequences should their fighting get out of hand?

Kneeling in front of John and Gordon, Jeff kept it simple. He knew that they would be feeling guilty enough just over hurting Scott, but for their eldest to be denied his love of baseball – he knew they would be cut up about that. 

‘I’m very disappointed in both of you. Gordon, how often have I warned you not to hurt your brothers with your pranks? You should have known how important that model was to your brother. It doesn’t matter that you did not intend to damage it, you knew today was an important day for John.’

Gordon hung his head and cried silently. His dad was telling the truth. He wanted to say didn’t know why he picked today of all days to prank John, but he knew it was not true. He had hated being told he couldn’t swim in the morning as usual. But he was sorry. Gordon turned to John and apologised. ‘M’sorry, John. I really am sorry; I liked your model.’ As he spoke the tears fell faster. John looped an arm around Gordon. ‘It’s ok, Fishie, I’m sorry I lost my temper and fought with you.’

Jeff smiled. ‘I’m proud that both of you have apologised without me having to prompt you. However, you are both going to have to apologise to Scott when he gets up. He’s going to miss so much now, and you have to make it up to him. What do you suggest you do?’ Jeff looked expectantly at the pair.

Gordon and John looked at each other. “I’m going to do all his chores for the next three months,’ Gordon volunteered. ‘I will do the ones Gordon can’t,’ John added. He then swallowed hard before adding, ‘I’ll get Alan up every morning so Scott can have a lie-in.’ 

Jeff started a little at that. It had not occurred to him that Scott could be doing this every morning. A little guiltily he added, ‘well, John, how about I get Alan up during the week and you get Alan up and breakfast ready on a Saturday? I think that may be a better option. And Gordon, you are going to spend the next three months helping John build a new orrery, ok?’

John nodded, relieved that it would not be an early start every day. And he enjoyed cooking.  
Gordon nodded and cheered up. ‘Pancakes every Saturday! Woohoo!’  
Virgil, coming in from the kitchen with Alan in tow, joined in by promising to listen to Scott and go to bed when he should.  
Alan promised he would listen to Scott more.

Ruth came over and kissed her son’s cheek. ‘Nicely done, Jeff,’ she murmured. It was about time Scott had some time for himself. It was such a shame it had been the result of a fight, but at least his brothers were going to be more mindful of him – for a while at least.


End file.
